"Cologne!" she called. "I see a tent!"
By this time Cologne had reached Dorothy.
"Oh, do come down," she begged. "If you should slip——"
"But I shall not slip. There was no use in running wild through the woods, when I could get a distinct view from here. It may be a gypsy camp. Where are the boys?"
"They seem to have gotten away, somehow," sighed Cologne. "Oh, what shall we do? We cannot go alone to that camp."
"Indeed I am going," declared Dorothy. "I heard Tavia's voice, and now I see a tent. If she is held there, we must go to her at once."
Cologne was terrified, but the experience through which Dorothy had passed in the last few days seemed to make all other fears look insignificant.
She had slid down the tree, and was now making her way in the direction of the tent. It was near the edge of a natural bank, that stood like a wind-shield against the rocks.
This shelf made a covering for the spot, so that only from some elevation such as from the tree could it be seen for any distance.
"Come on, Cologne," said Dorothy. "I see a path to the place. It must be somebody's camp."